Horrible Bosses
by Pretty Little M
Summary: Finn, Sam, and Puck are three ordinary guys. They'd grind all day at their jobs, only to be criticized by their bosses. Unable to quit their jobs, they plot to soften their bosses by setting them up with one another. Quick, Finchel, and Samcedes.
1. Chapter 1

**Sam**

"I like my job. I like my job. I like my job," I repeated as I walked through the halls. "_Yeah, say it enough, and one day it will be true_," I thought. Even with full hands, I managed to open the door to my boss's office.

My boss was Quinn Fabray. She followed her father's footsteps and became a family lawyer. Eager to get into a courtroom, she rushed through school. Quinn was becoming one of the top lawyers in New York, but to be the best, she demanded a lot.

She didn't look up as I entered. Her right hand continued to write, and her left rested on the desk, gripping an imaginary cup. "Samuel," she called, "what's wrong with this picture?"

I gave her the coffee, sliding the cup into her hand. I placed the stack of folders on the far right side of her desk; the designated area were the papers weren't in Quinn's way, but she could have them when she was ready. I stepped back and watched Quinn drink. I never left her office right away because I always knew she would call me back within two minutes.

"This is cold." She scowled as I began to laugh. Before I could tell her about my crazy adventure through the city, she stopped me. "Your incompetence is not amusing. Your job is to anticipate and cater to my needs. You know I can't function without caffeine. Are you trying to kill me?"

Under my breath, I mumbled, "Don't tempt me."

"Get me another," she ordered. Refocusing on her work, Quinn began to flip through the folders I had delivered. She called me as soon as I turned my back. "You forgot the Jackson case."

"You won that case months ago. Why do you need it?"

"For comparison. There's a lot of similarities between-" She stopped. She realized she was talking to her assistant. "Why am I telling you this. Do as I asked."

That was one of Quinn's better days.

**Puck**

I never pictured myself in an office, but I became a loan officer. I decided if a person was worthy of a loan that would fund their dream. I took the job to save and start my own pool cleaning business on the West Coast, but the job had grown on me. I liked my job.

My boss was a completely different thing. Rachel Berry was a psycho. She would let people's lives burn for her love of money. She ran a tight ship. She believed that time was money; If you waste a second of your time, you lose her money.

Tina and I slid into her office and stood against the wall. We stayed silent as we watched the elderly couple- pushing 60- plead their case to Rachel.

"We need a loan to get caught up on payments," the husband announced. "My disability only covers so much, and Janet is looking for a second job."

The wife added, "Not a lot of people are looking to hire someone at my age."

"How much is owed on the house?" Rachel asked. "How far behind are you?"

The couple danced around the answers for as long as they could, but they had to tell the truth. They were in debt- deep debt. They had no stability and weren't reliable enough to pay off a loan.

Rachel was too evil to tell them no. She was willing to give them the money for their home, but she would own the deed until the debt was paid off. Along with the loan, she ordered the couple to pay prime plus ten percent as interest.

They agreed. With their credit, they were happy that they got any offer. They were in the moment and couldn't see that they had a bad deal. They weren't being foreclosed on that week. They got one bank off their backs, but the Bank of Rachel Berry wasn't any better.

Rachel smirked at her accomplishment. "My employee will draft the paperwork." She passed the notes of the negotiation to Tina.

As soon as Tina and the couple were out of the room, I stepped forward. "You know they can't pay back that loan. Why would you do that to them?," I criticized the little brunette on the other side of the desk.

"It's best for me." She ordered me to sit. "I called you here for a reason. Do you know how I got to my position?"

"Your dads made you the boss when they retired."

"No!" she snapped. She stood and turned to admire her business plaques on the wall. "First, I worked my butt off."

I looked Rachel up and down, studying her skinny frame, "That explains a lot."

"Second, I don't let anything hold me back. I don't make decisions based on my feelings. If you want to succeed like me, then you have to cut that anchor and set sail." She looked at me. "You can't fall for every sob story that's told to you."

"It's their lives," I argued. I thought everyone was born with a heart, but apparently not.

"I need better results from you, Puckerman. This week, you have the chance to prove yourself." She was planning to leave the office for the rest of the week. She was taking a strictly business trip. She wanted to start another company in another state and spread more misery. "I need the brash and aggressive guy that I originally hired."

"I'm still-"

Rachel held up her finger, signaling for me to be quiet. "The discussion is closed," she declared. She took her bag and coat from the corner. "I'm having my teeth whitened, and then I have a meeting on 14th street. I won't be back in the office." She followed me out and locked her door.

Nothing brightened the office like Rachel's absence.

**Finn**

Everyone can agree that one of the best things about working is clocking out. You get the pleasure of leaving behind annoying coworkers and needy bosses. You fill that void with family and friends.

"Samuel? Only my grandmother calls me that," Sam complained. He sipped from his beer before moving to his next point. "There's coffee in the office, but Quinn gets weird pleasure out of sending me across town six times a day."

"Rachel thinks I'm soft," Puck said; that was the greatest insult. "So I'm supposed to sit back and watch people walk into Berry's office like lambs to the slaughter?"

I liked going out with my friends after work. For the longest time, I had to listen to my friends complain about their jobs, but recently I had a reason to join the conversation.

"Your bosses have been crazy for years," I announced. "Mercedes went crazy overnight."

I was a dental assistant to Dr. Mercedes Jones. I worked with her for five years. Everything was great when I started working for her. For the last three months, everything I did was wrong: I took a blurry x-ray, I held the swab wrong, I didn't sound nice enough on the phone. I thought I was making the mistakes she accused me of, but then they started to get ridiculous. I had a hard time because she randomly decided not to like me.

Puck nodded and put his drink down. "Mercedes discovered crazy too late in life. She'll leave it eventually," he promised. "Rachel is stone cold. How does she sleep, knowing what she's done?"

Sam jumps up with the answer. "I heard that one before. On a king size bed with Egyptian cotton sheets."

"ALONE!" Puck added. "I don't know if she needs medications or batteries. If Rachel had dick in her life, she'd be tolerable."

"You can't sleep with your boss. That's considered sexual harassment, and you could go to jail for that..." Sam sat back to think about what he said. Even he had to question his last statement. "I don't know. I'm just an assistant." He groaned and mumbled that he hated Quinn.

Why don't we just quit, right? We knew we couldn't. We were paid nicely to take shit. We had great benefits. We had jobs in one of the most competitive cities in America. If we had quit, we may have never worked again… unless one of us started a business.

"How much have you saved for your pool cleaning business?"

Puck shook his head. "Not even close. My money goes towards all the alcohol I need to work with Berry." He finished off his beer before announcing, "We're stuck being miserable losers, fantasizing about killing our bosses."

Sam glanced up. "You do that too?"

Puck admitted, "Of course. It's a natural and healthy thing to do."

"No, it's not." I agreed that our bosses need to be stopped, but that wasn't the way. I knew how those two could get wild with ideas, so I was going to close the conversation before it started. "We're not killing our bosses."

"We could," Puck argued."They could run hell together. Be Satan's problem."

"No, nothing about us says 'killers.' Now, stop talking about that."

"But hypothetically-"

"You're talking about women."

He rolled his eyes and leaned back into his chair. In his moment of silence, Puck had an idea. "I can't have sex with Rachel, but what if one of you do… I don't mind sacrificing one of you two for my happiness."

Sam quietly thought about it before volunteering, "I'll do it if you do the same for me." He was feeding into Puck's craziness.

He nodded. He turned to me and asked, "You want in?"

"Sure," I sarcastically answered. I didn't think the scheme was going to make it outside of the bar's doors. "You plan it out while I go and pay the tab."


	2. Chapter 2

**Sam**

From the window, I watched the last group of workers leave the building. "Go on, be free," I mumbled in envy. I had to stay in the office until Quinn left, and she was never in any hurry to go home.

Quinn stormed out of her office. "Samuel, I've been calling you for the last three minutes. Didn't you hear me?" She didn't give me the chance to answer. "Do you expect me to survive on air alone?"

I took a deep breath as my full name echoed in my head. "You can me Sam," I offered. I was used to her being pushy, so most of her words went in one ear and came straight out the other.

She put her hands on her slim hips. She announced, "I am not your friend. I am not your family. I don't want to call you _Sam_." Her green eyes focused on mine. "I want my dinner, and I am giving you thirty minutes to get it to me."

Quinn's favorite restaurant was a ten minute taxi ride each way. The business refused to fill call in orders, so there was a fifteen minute wait for the meal to be prepared. There was no way I was going to make it in time, but for my job, I was going to try.

When I got to the restaurant, I was thankful that there was only one person waiting at the counter. I lowered my scarf and asked a worker, "Can I have whatever you have done, please. I'll pay anything. I'm in a hurry." I got a nod. I stepped to the side and was brought into the conversation of the woman on her cellphone.

"It's winter. What did you think was going to happen?" she asked. "If you had just listened to me-"

I looked up from the counter and scanned the room. I didn't care about my surroundings. I needed a cover to look at the woman beside me.

Standing beside her, it was easy to notice how short she was: somewhere in the first half of five feet. She was wrapped in a coat that tied to squeeze in at her waist and left the rest of her body to the imagination. Her black hair curled around her brown face and ended below her shoulders.

Her eyes closed and her body tensed as she listened to what was happening on the other end of her call. "I'll be there soon." She hung up the phone just as her order was being placed on the counter. She flashed a disgusted face before asking me, "Would you like this? It's paid for. I just lost my appetite." My fairy godmother left before I could respond.

I was lucky to catch her outside. I watched as she struggled to hail a cab, and I saw my chance to repay her. I tapped her on the shoulder and volunteered to help her. "At night, it's hard to catch a cab on this side of the block," I explained as I led her to the corner. I stepped off the sidewalk and waved for a driver's attention. When the yellow car stopped, I opened the door for the woman.

"Great, a white savior," she groaned, thinking out loud. She didn't recognize me from inside of the restaurant. She thanked me and climbed into the car.

I looked out and saw no available taxis on the road. I leaned over the door and asked, "If you're going straight, do you mind sharing?" I slid in as she scooted over. Before I could introduce myself, I felt a sharp pain strike my back tooth. "_Curse you, Lucky Charms_," I thought. I tell the driver the building's address and pull my scarf over my mouth to keep the cold air out.

"Are you okay?" the woman asked, considering hopping out of the cab and running away.

"It's just my tooth." When I was asked about visiting a dentist, I admitted, "I can't afford it right now."

Her eyebrows raised. Her face said it all. "_You work in the Davis Building, and you can't afford to go to the dentist_."

I tried to bounce back and present myself as someone professional. "I don't really have time. My schedule is tight."

She sat in silence until we were closer to my stop. After she dug through her bag, she passed me a business card. "We offer a payment plan. I can't help you with scheduling, but I hope you can find the time. Oral health is important."

I look at the card and immediately take interest in the bold printed name. "You're Mercedes Jones?" I didn't think of how creepy it could be to smile at a stranger until it was too late. I just thought it was crazy that by accident I was one step ahead of Puck in our pact.

The driver called for me. "This is your stop. $12.71."

As I gathered my money, I tried to talk to Mercedes. "I w-"

"You don't stand a chance with her," the driver interrupted. "Give me the money and get out of my car."

Mercedes didn't protest.

I hopped out of the taxi and went inside. I peeked into Quinn's office and frowned at her blonde hair tied in a ponytail; it was usually a sign that we were in for a long night.

She growled into her phone, "Tell the judge that she can take her fine and shove it." Quinn had had another outburst in court, and she was failing to talk her way out of the ticket. "I was not out of order! She was out of order." In the heat of the moment, Quinn flung her phone across the room. She refused to acknowledge the cracked phone.

I made a mental note to schedule a therapy session into Quinn's plans. I had seen many of her meltdowns and tantrums, and throwing a phone was only level two.

She snatched her handbag and jacket. "Get me a new phone by tomorrow and pay this," she ordered. She shoved the slip of paper to my chest as she walked past me.

**Puck**

I like going to the gym. I get to relieve stress. I get to challenge myself. And at the end, I look good. Friends was an occasional bonus.

Just when I thought Ol Sammy Boy wasn't going to show, he strolled into the weight room. He smiled and passed a card. "I met Mercedes today. She seems nice."

"Hannibal Lecter seems nice compared to Rachel." I knew what he wanted; when he had a crush, he'd wear his goofy smile for a few days. "We're not switching. I have Mercedes. You have Rachel."

Finn asked, "You two were serious?" He was the reason why we couldn't switch partners: I needed someone that would follow through with the plan.

Sam argues, "But you're tougher. Quinn might not eat you." When I finally agreed, he led us to the window that overlooked the boxing gym downstairs. "This is what you're up against." He pointed to the blonde unleashing on a punching bag.

"That's Sauna Girl." I had seen her plenty of times at the gym; when I would come in for a late workout, she would be just getting into the sauna. I thought she was hot- it's obvious- but I thought I was above chasing women at the gym. I decided to make my move right then. I climbed down the steps and approached her. "Excuse me."

She stopped punching the bag. Her eyes rolled at the interruption. She didn't say a word, but dared me to talk.

I passed her to get to the set of dumbbells against the wall. "Are you using these?" I asked, and received a head shake. "People take them from the weightroom and never put them back."

She didn't care.

"I think I've seen you around. I'm Puck," I introduced. I wasn't bothered when she didn't respond back- I didn't need her to. "See you around." I returned upstairs with the weights and reminded myself to put them back in their rightful place when Quinn left.

"She didn't say anything to you," Finn said. He thought that would end the pact: he was very wrong.

Picking up girls at the gym is a science. You can't come on too strong, but you have to let here know that you're there. Being at the gym regularly would help, although you don't have to acknowledge each other every time.

Quinn had my name; the seed had been planted. She was going to make the next move.

**Finn**

I strolled through the doors of Berry Family Finances and was met with feelings of depression and debt. The front desk was empty, so I went ahead to the back. In my scrubs, I stood out from the professionally dressed. I passed several workers playing on their phones, putting on makeup and doing other things that wouldn't count as work. I made a beeline towards Puck's desk.

Puck looked away from his computer when I dropped the to-go bag in front of him. He thanked me and traded his money for the food. "Rachel canceled her trip and has been working us like dogs." He spun in his chair and called to the Asian woman sitting at the desk behind him. He offered, "I have two sandwiches. Do you want one?"

"That is very chivalrous of you, but no," she declined as she stood.

He introduced us to each other. "Finn, this is Tina, my coworker… who is leaving for some reason."

"I'm not canceling my lunch date because of Rachel. You will cover for me because I did it for you last month." She noticed Puck's confusion. "You don't remember? I'd be happy to remind you and Rachel."

"Come on. Blackmail is beneath you."

Tina shook her head. "Blackmail is more effective than bribery." She smiled, having the upper hand. As she buckled her coat, she announced, "I should be back before Rachel, but if I'm not, tell her I'm in the bathroom." She waved goodbye.

"It's going to be hard to explain a fifty minute bathroom break," he argued, but she was gone. Puck faced me. "So what did you get sent home for today?"

I exhaled as I tried to make sense of the ridiculous reason Mercedes had. "I hung my jacket on a hook behind the reception desk." I was the only one reprimanded for something that everyone in the office did. When asked about my plans for the rest of my day, I shrugged. "I'm sure Kurt needs some help."

My stepbrother, Kurt, was far ahead of the rest of us. When we moved to New York, he started with a long houred office job, but he was saving and plotting for his next move. He bought a theater; it was old and barely standing, but he was proud. He insisted on fixing it up himself which meant he would accept help from anyone that offered it.

Before another word could be said, a brunette dressed in cheetah prints rushed through the office. "Code Red. Rachel's coming up. Come on, people. You clean that up. You put your phone away. You," she called, pointing at the only man that was working, "look like a sad clown." She continued to pass between desks, giving orders. She wanted everything to look presentable for her boss. "Everyone look busy and remember, no eye contact."

Rachel entered, and every workers' head dropped. She strutted through with her assistant behind her. She rattled off her plans for the rest of her day. After passing Puck's desk, she stopped. "What is that smell?" she asked.

Puck waved the bag, unbothered by Rachel's disgust.

"Do you know how many cows had to die for your burger?"

He shrugged. "One burger, one cow?" he guessed.

"Get rid of it," Rachel ordered. She turned to her assistant. "Sugar, call sanitation."

Puck looked at me and saw an opportunity. "Rachel, Mr. Hudson wants a loan that's too big for me to sign off." Without any warning, he had thrown me to the shark.

Rachel led me into her office. She sat across from me; her pen and pad open and ready for notes. "What type of loan are you hoping for?" She sat silently as I thought. After a long wait, she aided me through my decision. "What do you need the loan for? Home? Education? Business?"

"Yes, business. I want to start a business." I watched as she wrote on her pad. I knew I was over my head and needed a reason to get out. "Isn't there a form I should fill out first?" I thought she'd give me the papers and let me out to fill them; I'd take that as my chance to leave and never look back.

It took being alone with her to fully understand the intimidation that most of her employees felt.

"This is just an interview to determine if you're a worthy candidate," she explained. "What type of business are you opening?"

I hesitated. "Um." It was hard to think of a business when I wasn't actually starting a business.

Putting her pin down, she had made up her mind. "Mr. Hudson," she called, "you've shown up empty handed without financial records or any documents to help your argument. You have no idea of the business you would like to start. It's clear that you're not ready for a loan, but you're welcome to return when you're serious about your future." She was a little upset that I wasted a minute of her time, but things were about to get worse for the little woman.

Her assistant knocked and opened the door. "There's a woman here to see you. She says that she's your mother, and I admire her for having the bravery to admit it."

Rachel rejected her visitor. "Please show her and Mr. Hudson out." She began to busy herself with work.

I left without a fight, but Rachel's mother wasn't giving up as easily. She was determined to speak to her daughter. She ignored every order given to her and went into Rachel's office.

Eating his lunch, Puck ignored my glare.

* * *

**I know that I've been gone for a while, but I can explain. I had my son. He's a little angel, but baby brain is a bitch. I couldn't speak a full sentence. Writing was out of question. I'm back now and would love to know what you think.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Finn**

When I was sent home early, Mercedes would allow me to make up the time the next day. I would stay after hours, reorganizing the record room and getting the files for the patients that were scheduled to come in the next morning. It was easy to get everything done in an empty office.

Mercedes had called me as I had finished sending out two day reminders to patients. She needed me to bring her the billing forms. "The folder is on the desk in the corner. There's a bag in my office. I'll send you my address," she listed in a breath. When I agreed, she hung up.

"Well, see you when I get there," I said into my phone. "Bye." I entered her office, and finding the messenger bag wasn't a hunt.

Mercedes' office looked very basic. There was her desk with three chairs around it. She didn't have any personal items or photos. The little color and decorations that were there were placed by her mother.

I had a short ride to the address Mercedes sent. "Hold the door," I asked, but no attempt was made. I rushed to stop the elevator from closing.

Rachel huffed as I stepped in. She didn't want to share the ride up, especially not with me. She lowered her head and focused on her phone.

The elevator moved creakily from the first floor. Ever second was milked on the ride. Just as we passed the sixth floor, the box jerked to a stop.

"No, no, no, this can't be happening."

I didn't panic. I pressed the elevator's service button and sat on the floor. To be respectful, I pulled my legs back and out of the way of the pacing woman.

"Why aren't you more panicked?"

It was far from my first time in a broken elevator. I have lost countless nights to the one in my building. I expected it to happen in the old and cheap but not in a fancy place with a doorman.

"We just have to wait." I knew we wouldn't be there all night, but repairs were going to take time. I offered her the spot beside me, but she said that it was unsanitary. I laid my jacket out beside me and offered again.

"Such a gentleman," she sarcastic said, but she still declined. She began to dial a number on her phone.

I was a little jealous that she had phone service, but I couldn't let her call 911; the message was already out. I pointed at the glowing button. "It's for emergencies like this," I explained. "Firefighters will be here… eventually."

"I need the real emergency response team, not the lackeys they assigned to the elevator squad." She didn't make the call, but she didn't verbally admit that I was right. She leaned against the wall with her arms crossed.

I did want to sit in an awkward silence. I tried to start a conversation. "So you're-"

"No," she declined. "This isn't the time for discussion or getting to know a stranger. I don't even want to know your name. We are going to save our oxygen and wait for help quickly."

I whispered in disbelief, "Who hurt you?"

Growing up, I was told that everyone was good, and they only changed when they were done wrong. I repeatedly asked that question around Mercedes, but I never let it pass my lips. I saw how Rachel treated her employees and how cold she treated a stranger that she couldn't cut a deal with, and I guess I couldn't bite my tongue.

"That's none of your concern," she argued. "Where do you get off judging people? You're the man that couldn't remember what type of business he wanted to start."

"If you made people feel comfortable and wanted-"

"I run my business just fine." Looking down at me, Rachel shot, "My job had a perpuse."

"Right," I scoffed. "Every deal you make is to get more money than you give. When was the last time you helped anyone without wanting something in return."

She threw her breakfast muffin in a trashcan in front of a homeless man- what a humanitarian.

We finally settled into silence, and anger radiated off of us both. Rachel distracted herself with her phone. I thought about forcing the door open and squeezing between floors for freedom.

After forty minutes, I realized that I had to apologize; it was going to haunt me if I didn't. I took a deep breath before saying, "I'm sorry." I watched as Rachel cut her eyes at me. "I'm, um, claustrophobic."

Her eyebrows raised as she tried to make sense of my attitude and excuse. "Apology accepted." She was supposed to apologize to me, but maybe apologies weren't her thing. "If you can get a presentation ready by tomorrow, I can sit aside thirty minutes to listen."

"How about lunch?"

As if the universe had everything planned, the elevator began.

When the elevator stopped on the 14th floor, I rushed out. I didn't know if Mercedes would take pity or punish me. I knocked on the door, and as soon as she opened it, I started my explanation.

"I hope you're okay," she worried. "Why didn't you call?"

When you choose a cheap phone plan, you accept the chance that you might not have a signal in emergencies.

Her shock was quickly replaced by anger after hearing a bang from inside of her apartment. She turned to the men assembling her entertainment center and snapped, "You break, you buy it… and you know you can't afford it." Continuing to glare at the workers, she asked me, "Do you want to come in? I can teach you how to fill these forms out."

I agreed and entered the appointment. I followed her to a table. Unpacking the bag, I asked "What happened to the guy that did billing?" I didn't know his name, but I remember his disappearance because it was the day I became the only man in the office.

"Fired," she breathed. "I'll get you some water."

I looked around the room and thought of how lonely it had to be to have all Mercedes had alone. I decided to join Sam and Puck's pact to help Mercedes. I thought I had a good excuse.

**Sam**

I couldn't accept my boredom and knew that I had to get Quinn out of the office. I was losing my game of trashketball as I waited for my friend to answer my call. When he did, I jumped straight to the point. "Quinn is going to the gym, so you have to be there."

"Dude, it's the middle of the night," Puck said groggily into the phone. He took a moment to perk up and think of the plan. "If she leaves, how do you know that's where she's going?"

"I scheduled it."

Quinn didn't really appreciate her planner. The reminders she got were just suggestions: it might be a good day to call your grandmother, or if you want, you could respond to your sister's baby shower invitation. She only followed it on her best days. That day, she won a case and wasn't held in contempt during the others, so there was a high chance that she'd leave.

I hang up with Puck and listen for the ding of Quinn's digital planner. When I heard the joyful noise, I peeked into her office, only to watch her ignore the reminder. I was defeated. I answered my phone when Finn called.

"Whatever you and Puck have going on, I'm in," Finn started. He gave me rules to dating his boss: a repeat of what Puck and I had already set because they were common sense. "She's a good person and would be hurt if she found out that we-"

Quinn entered the room, and I quickly dropped my phone. She lifted her head from her folder. "Return this to the record room and be in at seven."

Finn had to repeat himself. "I've worked with Mercedes for five years. I know what she likes, so don't do anything until I tell you to."

"Okay," I answered. I was more focused on getting out of the office.

**Puck**

The gym was open 24 hours for someone.

Mike huffed when he noticed me: nothing personal. He had a shitty boss too. He had to pull doubles before he was allowed to practice his dance moves in one of the studios. "I have to get something to eat. I'm locking the door. Don't let anyone in. Don't fall because there's nothing to take in a lawsuit. Don't bother the blonde in the ring. I'm sure she's capable of murder." He left the two of us alone.

I was putting weights on the barbell when she appeared. "Has anyone told you not to lift without a spotter?" Quinn sat at the end of the bench. She glowed with a sheen of sweat, and she still looked sexy as hell.

"I know my limits."

"That would be great to put on your gravestone," she joked, and I agreed.

"Noah Puckerman, a badass that knew his limits," I fantasized. I realized what I had done afterwards: I gave her my name, and the last thing I wanted was another person calling me Noah. I announced, "Call me Puck or nothing."

"Well, Nothing, do you work here?"

"No, I just like to work out." I leaned over the bar without calculating how close I would land towards her.

She agreed, "Healthy body, healthy mind." She smirked, and her green eyes brightened. She knew the game. She decided that she earned extra time for her workout. She went back down stairs, but twenty minutes later, she passed through the weight room to get to the showers and the sauna.

I eventually decided to try out the sauna. "_See what has Quinn coming back_." After a shower and changing into shorts, I was ready to go. I opened the door, and hot air poured out. I fought against the heat to sit.

Quinn continued to lie face up on the bench above me, not bothering to cover her bikini with a towel. She didn't have to open her eyes to know that I was with her; there were only two of us in the building. She criticized my short workout..

"I like to keep things fast and intense," I admitted, making her softly snicker at the double entendre. I settled to the heat, but boredom nearly killed me. "So you just sit here?"

She sat up and announced that she had an idea. She slid from her seat to be closer to me. She was brave enough to say that she wanted sex.

I like a strong woman that knows what she wants. What more can I say?


End file.
